


Wet

by captainhurricane



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Collars, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Heavy BDSM, Self-Indulgent, Spreader Bars, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: The Bull knows what to do with a girl who knows how to obey.





	Wet

**Author's Note:**

> what is safe sex when you're a magic land full of dragons and giant horned people 
> 
> hehe   
> horny people

From the door onwards, it’s Iron Bull’s territory. Each day he pulls Trevelyan aside and they talk in hushed whispers, she smiles, he smiles. She presses a kiss to his mouth that he deepens, delighted. 

 

Outside the door, it’s her territory. Outside the door she is the leader, the beacon of hope and life and light.

 

But from the door to her bedroom (and sometimes his) begins the territory of the Iron Bull where everything and everyone belong to him.

 

Her included.

 

Today is one of those days when the remains of the battle buzz under her well-scrubbed skin, when she thinks she can still hear the enemies of today scream, their otherworldly nature coming all the way to her dreams. Today is one of those days when she had pulled her lover aside and told him to meet her upstairs.

 

Of course, outside her door, he obliges.

 

Of course, inside her rooms, it is she who obliges.

 

She has bathed herself from head to bottom, has left her long black hair wild and free. Her heart races in her chest, her knees cold on her stone floor. Trevelyan listens for the familiar footsteps on the stairs. Is that? No. Not yet. 

 

She takes a few deep breaths. 

 

_ Today, I am nothing. Today, come to me and speak filth to me. Don’t listen to my pleas. You know what to do. _ That’s what she had told the Iron Bull earlier and he had smirked, kissed her, slapped her ass.  _ With pleasure,  _ he had replied. There had been other words too, words that now bring a flush to her cheeks. Those words he’ll soon say to her, whisper against her quivering skin as he -

 

Oh, she shouldn’t think on it. Not before he comes.

 

Now she waits for him to come to her, on her knees on the floor, naked as the day she was born. She keeps her hands on her knees, her thighs spread. Her eyes are closed, her breaths even, deep. A gentle breeze slips through the balcony doors, opened up a crack. It’s the way the Iron Bull prefers it to be. 

 

Trevelyan perks up. Heavy footsteps on the stairs. The scrape of  the door as it’s opened and then closed. She licks her lips and opens her eyes but doesn’t look. It’s not her place. The door is locked with a firm clank. 

 

“My. My, my.” 

 

Trevelyan only lifts her gaze when prompted by a finger under her chin. 

 

The Iron Bull towers over everyone on a normal day, but like this, with her on her knees, even more so. His face is unreadable. 

“Here I was, thinking about doing some work and I find a present,” he purrs and strokes her chin, strokes her cheek. 

 

She takes a deep breath. When she doesn’t speak, he smiles.

“Don’t worry, little one, daddy brought you your favourite things.” He’s laid them on the bed behind her, because he only has to reach to grab the spreader bar and a collar. Those he lays next to her. 

“Keep your hair out of the way.” 

 

Trevelyan, because in here she’s not the Inquisitor but Bull’s girl through and through, does as she’s told. It elicits a smile from the Iron Bull as he clips her leather collar around her slender neck. He brushes her cheek for it. 

 

His kiss is what should land on her brow, or her mouth or her breasts, but instead it lands on the top of her head. 

“Do we need to go over the rules again, baby girl?” He pulls her up and oh yes, her legs are quivering. “Just shake your head or nod, you know what to do.”

 

Trevelyan shakes her head. She’s a good girl. She knows what the rules are and what her man wants from her - and what she wants from him. 

 

“Are you certain?” The Iron Bull lifts her easily and places her on the edge of the bed. “We don’t want a repeat of last time, now, do we?” He chuckles darkly as he takes the thick, gleaming spreader bar in his hands. “Unless my little girl is the kind of a dirty slut who wants it rough.” 

 

Her legs fall open at the sight, her ankles nudged towards him. She must make some kind of a noise because his visible eye darkens. 

 

“Is she?” He leans forward and grabs her ankles, pulls them roughly towards himself. Bull’s mouth is still curled into a smirk. Trevelyan quivers under that gaze, a flush blooming at the knowledge that she’s beginning to burn so easily with just a touch and a look. She opens her mouth to speak, only has to see Bull lifting his eyebrow to snap her mouth shut again. 

 

The Iron Bull hums as he places her ankles into the cuffs at each end of the spreader bar. 

 

She whimpers. Her tongue flicks over her lips, already parted. She lets herself fall on her back to the bed and puts her hands above her head. 

 

“Are you, baby girl?” He pushes her knees close to her chest and steps closer. His hulking form burns hot. “Are you a slut who needs it rough?” 

 

Trevelyan bites her lip. 

 

The corner of the Iron Bull’s eye crinkles. “It’s alright. You may answer in words.” He leans onwards, one hand grabbing her wrists, one hand around her throat. “In fact, I expect you to say it out loud. That you are not a good little girl. That you are a slut who is just waiting for a chance to be fucked into oblivion by her master.” He’s still wearing his pants. The fabric chafes against her skin but she knows better than to say it. 

 

She parts her lips again, her tongue smacking against the roof of her mouth.

“I’m - “ Maker, where has her voice gone? 

 

The Iron Bull rocks against her and she gasps. His smirk widens once more. The hand around her throat shifts, his thick fingers now on her mouth, trailing her Cupid’s bow, dipping the tip in. 

 

“Yes, love?” 

 

“I’m - I want - “ Her hips twitch. Her cunt has started to throb. “I can be good for you, Daddy.” It used to be a strange word for her, something she had discovered by accident but now it slips from her lips with ease, like one of her spells. 

 

His grip on her wrists tightens. “I’m not certain you can,” he purrs. “The way I’ve heard it and seen it, it seems you are just a dirty slut who thinks she’s a good girl and thinks she deserves my cock.  Or even my fingers.” He rubs her lips, hovers over her, his body pressing her knees even tighter against her chest. Her toes curl. 

 

“D-daddy, no, that’s -” 

 

His thumb slides into her mouth, calloused and thick. “You’ll show me just how much of a slut you are, little one. Lick it.” And Trevelyan does, quivering from head to toe. She licks that thick, calloused thumb with fervour, like she had nothing better to do, like she had nothing else she could possibly want to lick and suck. She sucks it too, sucks like she would suck his dick when he lets her. Her eyelashes tickle her cheeks as her mind offers her images of his dick in her mouth: she knows it intimately, knows how he likes to be sucked and licked, knows the weight of his balls on her tongue, the slide of his thick, hot length into her pussy or her ass. 

 

Slick slides from her cunt now and she whines. It drives his thumb out of her mouth. 

 

“Keep your hands where they are, slut,” he says, his voice back to its normal level, the darkness gone from his eye. His smirk has returned as he sweeps her wet cunt with his thumb before standing up to his full height.He glances down and brings his thumb to his own lips. 

 

Trevelyan tries to squirm, to press her thighs together but it’s no good: the bar between her ankles prevents her. She flushes hotly under his gaze, even more moisture gathering in her cunt.

 

“Tell me, do good little girls get their pussy wet from just a little thumb-sucking?” He just stands there, looking: his incredibly broad chest heaves with each strong breath, just inviting her mouth and her hands to touch. Yet she can’t.

 

Trevelyan burns from the inside out, her fingers curling tight around each other. “N-no. But daddy, you know how much I like it. Sucking you off.” She glances lower, to the crease of his pants right where his massive cock is hidden. “I can’t help it.” She squirms. “I can be good for you, I swear. Daddy, pl - “ 

 

He glances at her and she shuts up, lowering her gaze in shame. Already she’s like this: squirming, writhing, wet. 

 

From just his thumb in his mouth and a few dirty words. 

 

Her chest heaves, she arches, just enough to push her breasts towards him but instead he looks away. 

“I think I need to leave you alone for a second, baby girl. Get you to calm yourself down,” he muses, thoughtful. And he does, he leaves her on the bed. 

 

She squeezes her eyes closed. This is what she asked for. This is what they talked about. Using their safeword doesn’t even cross her mind. 

“Oh, Maker,” she whispers. 

 

He chuckles and leaves her to it. 

 

For how long Trevelyan lays there, her thoughts filled with him, her cunt exposed to the air, she doesn’t know. She loses count of the seconds, instead lets her mind drift into what he’s going to do to her. She thinks about his cock in her mouth, thinks about taking his balls between her lips and sucking them hard, until he yanks her head away by the hair and berates her. She thinks about his cock in her pussy, fucking her slow and deep, taking her apart with incredible ease. She thinks about his cock between her tits, his massive hands pushing them together to create a valley for him to fuck into.

 

She whines and tries in vain to rub her thighs together again. Oh Maker, but she’s so wet. 

 

Trevelyan knows she shouldn’t, he’s only going to call her a whore and a slut and not even fill her the way she wants but - how long is she going to lay here, unable to touch herself the way she wants? 

 

“Daddy,” she whispers, clutching the sheets. “Daddy, please.” She doesn’t want to get up and move her hands. Daddy will only be disappointed. But this way she doesn’t know where he’s gone: has he gone to do work? Is he even looking at her at all? 

Oh, Maker. Oh, bloody Maker. 

 

She writhes in the bed, helpless, for so long that the yearning inside her starts to hurt. Her skin has risen to goosebumps from the breeze, her nipples as hard as pebbles.

“Daddy,” she whimpers. 

 

When he finally comes to her, she presses her heated face to his cool palm. 

“I’ll be your good girl, your bad girl, whatever you want, Daddy,” she whispers and takes his thumb into her mouth with delight. 

“I know, baby girl,” The Iron Bull growls. The bed creaks under his considerable weight. “But first, show it to me.” He’s revealed his cock: even flaccid, it’s big. 

Trevelyan’s mouth waters. “Can I? Daddy?” 

His fingers card through her hair, his smile is small. Without words he grabs a fistful of her hair and tugs her face against his crotch. She groans out loud and opens her mouth, drags her tongue on his throbbing vein. She lavishes love on his thick organ, kisses and licks wherever she can reach. He keeps his grip tight on her hair and directs her attentions where he wants them to go.

 

He only lets her suck him properly once he has started to harden. Her eyes flutter closed at the sheer pleasure of pleasuring him. 

“Your slutty mouth is certainly something, little one,” he growls. Bull’s cock thickens even further, stretching her mouth, making her open her lips wider. Her hands on the sheet tighten but she refuses to move them. This is what he wants. This is what she needs. 

 

“Mmhm,” The Iron Bull purrs above her, his cock throbbing in her mouth. She laps at it, keeps her lips tight around it, gags as he fucks her face until he’s had his fill and he withdraws, leaving pre-come spattered over her lips. “Your mouth is good, pet.” He smears his trail on her mouth, smiles when her tongue flicks out. “But maybe it’s not enough for you, hmm? Maybe it’s not your mouth but your pussy that craves a pounding?” 

 

Trevelyan jolts. “O-oh, Maker, yes!” She’s soaking the sheets under her, her knees quivering as she bends them again, revealing more of her cunt and her ass to him, the bar wide enough to keep her obscenely spread. She shudders as his finger trails the underside of her thigh. 

 

“You suck cock well, little one,” he whispers. Then his hand grabs the bar and pushes, bending her in half. 

 

He reveals his teeth. “But I don’t think you are wet enough or gaping enough for my cock.” He orders for her to grab the bar and keep herself like this, open for him. She squeezes her eyes closed and does as she’s told because she’s a good girl, a good slut for her Daddy through and through. 

 

“Good.” His praise makes Trevelyan shiver. His spit on her cunt makes her shudder. His fingers skewering her make her moan and clench. He slaps her thigh.

“Don’t clench on me, baby girl. What you need to do is get even wetter for your Daddy so Daddy can fuck you into pieces, yes?” His fingers are way thicker than her own. They’re more devious than her own: calloused, dexterous. Two of them push into her and spread her until she aches. 

 

Her knuckles turn white around the bar. She opens her eyes again, only to see him looking straight at her. 

“M-Maker,” she whispers as his fingers begin to scissor and massage her skillfully. 

 

The Iron Bull winks at her before spitting on her cunt again. He goes for three fingers, fucks her, loosens her until her eyes water, his taste in her mouth intensifying. She shudders through another slap to her ass, then another, then another until she no longer manages to clench so tightly around his fingers. 

 

He spits on her again, the absolute ass, knowing what it does to her and fucks her through a squirming orgasm. 

 

“Oh, baby girl, my little slut,” he says, kisses her cunt and then helps her lower her bound legs. “Taste your own pussy, make Daddy happy.” He brings his stained fingers to her lips, shoves them through her lips and she moans, sucks them with fervour, her pussy utterly throbbing. Her tongue curls around his digits, her lips suck away the taste of herself. Her chest heaves, her heavy, big breasts rising and falling with her rapid breasts. 

“How do you taste, sweetheart?” He kisses her on the lips, on the cheek. His palm lands on one breast and begins to knead. 

Trevelyan whimpers as a reply and reaches for him but instead he grabs her wrists again and forces them down. She gets the hint and keeps them down. 

“Slick,” she whispers. 

 

He squeezes her breast hard and lays a smacking kiss right on one hard nipple. “That’s right. Now how about getting Daddy his orgasm too, little slut?” He leans forward. This time it’s a real kiss, mouth to mouth, lips opening against lips and tongue pushing against tongue. Trevelyan shivers from head to toe, unable to bite back a sensual little mewl when he presses himself fully against her: and this time his cock is fully hard, brushing teasingly against her cunt. 

 

She bites her lip. Her daddy’s mouth is on her nipple now, his large hand once more teasing her pubic mound. She can’t close her legs, can’t close her eyes from the evidence of her arousal that the orgasm hadn’t stolen away. 

 

“I need - “ Trevelyan yelps. Bull’s teeth graze her nipple and he lifts his gaze. 

“You don’t know what you need, little slut,” he murmurs, pinching her nipple to make her shiver. 

“O-of course.” She trembles, oh, how she trembles. “I want.”

Now he suckles her breast again, teases both nipples until they’re aching from his lips, from his tongue and teeth and powerful hands. Those same hands that once more push that spreader bar against her. 

“Of course you want,” The Iron Bull says easily as he teases her cunt with the tip of his massive dick. “There’s nothing else you could want in this room. What are you but my favourite hole to fill? Ah. Favourite holes. There’s that delightful tight throat -” He leans onwards and kisses her neck, wraps his hand around it. “Or your ass. That’s even tighter.” 

 

Trevelyan mewls, scratching at the sheets as he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, deeper, his ridiculously large cock filling every single inch of her from the inside out. 

 

“Or -” He keeps pushing, thrusting, deeper and deeper until Trevelyan almost fears he’ll spear her from her cunt to her throat. “This pussy of yours, pillow princess.”

 

Trevelyan whimpers, tears gathering at her eyes, but they stay open. She watches Iron Bull’s eye turn towards her heaving breasts, now pink from his attentions. His mouth should be on them again, or his hands but none of them are. Instead he spanks her again and bottoms out. 

 

She shudders. “Daddy,” she whimpers. A pleasure-pain is filling her from her wet, loose cunt, spreading to every corner of her. 

 

“There is no tighter, wetter pussy than this, in the entire land, I think,” he murmurs and grabs a good hold of her hips before starting to thrust. And he knows how to: he’s had a slew of lovers over his lifespan, of all genders and of all species, he  knows his way around a cock and an ass and a cunt. He certainly knows his way around her parts and her body, all of her three holes for him to fill and use for his pleasure. 

 

Her eyes flutter closed once his thrusts quicken and his cock is slamming so deep inside her she sees stars. 


End file.
